


Dry Spell

by cells55



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1741475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cells55/pseuds/cells55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on tmpfanficprompts: "Mindy and Danny going through a dry spell. Mindy freaking out about it (of course). "<br/>Hope I did the prompt justice!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dry Spell

_ Day 3 _

It takes a while to hit her - probably so caught up in work, and booking tickets and back-up tickets for the new X-Men movie, to truly notice. Sunday afternoon was the last time. All cosy and warm and drawn-out, a delicious way to spend a few hours. She could rarely think of anything better to do with her time that just melt into his arms.

Three days, though....probably just a blip, right?

_ Day 4 _

"So, um..." she stirs her coffee idly, watching the way the milk sinks into the deep brown; it's a comforting ritual. Her voice is a carefully-pitched nonchalance. "How long have you gone without sex?"

Jeremy raises an eyebrow - a few years ago, just that would've floored her. Thank god she moved on from _that_ particular obsession.

"I just, I read an article online about - dry spells, and I was curious," she adds, she thinks, quite smoothly.

"Well, in my heyday, it was about 32 hours," he replies. It sounds exhausting. "Now, of course, it's much more conservative."

"Yeah?" she asks, slouching a little with relief.

"Oh, yes," he nods, dipping his finger into his tea - a mildly gross affectation he uses to check the temperature. 'Can't use a burned tongue' was his original explanation, which dropped her panties pretty quickly. His tea was still warm when they were finished, in fact. Simpler times. "It's more like 72 hours now." He heaves a dramatic sigh. "That's just getting older, though, isn't it? We cope as best we can."

"Oh." She swallows a mouthful of coffee. "Right."

_ Day 6 _

She studies him from across the dining table; he's reading the paper, scowling as he lifts forkfuls of lasagne to his mouth. That mouth...god. Even pasta is a turn-on now, which is kind of devastatingly pathetic. She's a mess and it's all his fault.

Maybe hers, too, but she's not at the stage yet where she can shoulder any blame.

It's possible she's become too used to the burning heat that had consumed them at the start. She had thought it would last forever. Apparently not.

He catches her analysing him, and the scowl breaks to a small, self-conscious grin. "You okay, Min? You look far too thoughtful."

She is not one of life's great strong-and-silent types. Probably never will be. But she can't quite find the words right now to just ask, hey, dude, why aren't you nailing me on this table right now? So instead, she lets a smile fix her features. "I'm good."

_ Day 8 _

She shuts the office door quietly behind her, which is apparently more unnerving than storming in, because her colleague immediately sits up straight. "Oh god, did someone eat all the pastries before 11am again? I'm not sure how many more staff meetings I can devote to sweets etiquette, Mindy."

"Oh, no, they're holding up their side of the bargain," she assures him, sinking into the chair opposite his. "I even got one of those chocolate twirls I like today."

"Thank god." Jeremy smiles now, leans back in his chair a little. "Then all is right with the world."

"Well..." Mindy glances towards the door again, wonders what happened to the bravery that got her into this office in the first place. Deep breaths, Lahiri. Her well-rehearsed mantra. Deep breaths. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about something...personal."

Jeremy looks slightly alarmed. "Mother of all that is holy, Mindy. You don't normally ask for permission," he replies. "Are you dying?"

"Dying? No!" she balks, then considers it. "Although, in a way..."

"I think I will need a tad more clarification on this whole conversation," he interrupts. "If that's possible."

"Okay, okay." She picks distractedly at a bubble in her manicure; she never should've tried that new place by the subway. Amateurs. "Well. I guess I'm a little concerned because Danny and I are..." She looks up, looks to the side, lets her gaze travel anywhere it won't meet Jeremy's. "I guess we're going through a dry patch. If you want to put a label on it."

"Ah," he nods slowly. "So when you said you were dying 'in a way'..."

"...I meant dying of sex dehydration, yes."

"How dry are we talking?"

She finally meets his gaze. "Eight days, Jeremy. Eight days. That's 192 hours."

"Well, that's - 192 hours?" he pauses. "Did you work that out in your head? I thought you only did single-digit math."

She waves her hand dismissively. "I used a calculator. You know, in all the spare time I've had not getting laid." She crosses and recrosses her legs, a bundle of pent-up energy. "Jeremy, I'm falling apart here. I'm basically Fantine from Les Miserables at this point - "

"A consumption-riddled prossie in the depths of ancient rural France?" he wonders. "Now that you mention it, the likeness is uncanny."

"I mean I'm awash with, you know....distress," she frowns. "Shut up. You're supposed to be supporting me."

"I'm sorry," he offers. "Look, far be it for me to be the voice of reason, but have you tried actually... _talking_ to Danny?"

"No. I haven't found the balls yet," she admits.

"That doesn't sound like the Mindy Lahiri we all know and tolerate." His warm smile softens the insult blow just enough. "What's stopping you?"

She fidgets with a phallic-looking glass paperweight on the edge of his desk, quiet a few moments. "Do you remember when I got back from Haiti, and Danny was back with Christina?"

He wrinkles his nose. "Vaguely..."

"Just before they broke up, they were..." She pauses again, and sighs. "They weren't having sex. And she found a bunch of very tame porn on his browser history. Remember that? Because _I_ do."

Jeremy leans forward, and taps his finger firmly on her hand. "Okay, listen. Don't."

"The situations are very similar, is all I'm saying - "

"No, they're not," he insists. "Yes, lack of sex, I'll give you that. But there the similarities end. Danny then and Danny now are two completely different people."

She really, really wants to believe him. "Yeah?"

" _Yes_. It's quite irritating, really. You think you have a handle on someone, and then they go and change." He takes her hand in his now. "That's down to you, Mindy. If I hadn't given up gambling, I would put all my money on this not being remotely to do with a lack of interest in you or your relationship."

She chews on her bottom lip; it tastes like sugar and chemicals. She needs to get some more flavoured gloss if she's going to be this anxious. "I guess it's possible that it's about something else..."

"Possible, probably, extremely likely," he nods. "Just relax a little, darling. Try to find those balls and maybe just ask him what's happening. Chances are he'll jump you at the mention of a dry spell."

Her smile is a little more genuine this time. "Thanks, Jer. You're the best."

"I really am," he agrees, and she figures she'll let him be overly pleased with himself, just this once.

_ Day 11 _

She wakes up with the courage she's been seeking for the past week or so, not sure where it's sprung from, but not willing to let it slide away while she works it out. She leaps out of bed, padding through the apartment to find Danny in the kitchen, muttering to himself as he rifles through his messenger bag.

"Good morning," she announces, proud of how strong she sounds. "We need to talk."

He looks up, letting his gaze drag over her pyjama-clad form (and really, how could there even be a dry spell with _that_ behind his eyes?) before giving her a nervous smile. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, no," she replies quickly. How to find the right balance...this was an exercise in diplomacy. She had to channel her inner Olivia Pope. "I just...we haven't been...Okay." Deep breaths, Lahiri. "We haven't had sex in eleven days. That's almost two weeks, Danny. That's ridiculous. That's like 24 bear claws."

He looks surprised. "...really?"

"Yes, really," she nods. "Am I doing something wrong? Do I not...turn you on anymore? Because I can change that, I could - I could get plastic surgery, or exercise more, or - " She wrinkles her nose. "No, not exercise. But seriously, botox, breast lift, whatever you need."

"Min - "

"I'm sorry, but you have to draw the line somewhere, and I draw it at push-ups," she insists.

"Min. Stop." He steps closer, slipping something into his pocket. "Of _course_ you turn me on. You don't need to change a single thing, I swear to God."

She regards him suspiciously. "Right."

"Seriously. You're all I need, Min," he promises. He's got that endearing, sexy, sincere look on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise it'd been that long. I guess I've been a little preoccupied, but...that's no excuse. I'm sorry."

"What have you been so preoccupied with, anyway?"

He pauses, as if taking in the surroundings and their state of undress, then unceremoniously drops down to one knee. "I booked a restaurant; they had a fire in the kitchen. I tried to get us to the Empire State Building but we're still on the banned list after they caught us groping each other on the floor up there. I wanted to take you to Central Park, but then it rained and anyway, that guy got brutally attacked right by our spot, so, not romantic - "

"Danny," she murmurs, frozen to the spot. "What is happening right now?"

"I got caught up planning a romantic proposal," he shakes his head. "When this isn't all that bad, right?"

It's only fifteen minutes later that eleven days is wiped back to zero.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't intend this to end the way it did. It just....did. I also didn't intend to make Jeremy more prominent in it than Danny, but hey, he wanted to talk!  
> Hope you all enjoyed - thank you as ever for your wonderful feedback :)  
> \- C x


End file.
